Why Sugarcoat?

You know how we all like our doughnuts sprinkled with sugar and the treacle tart all syrupy? Well truth is not like that. In fact, truth is anything but a chocolate cupcake with the colourful sprinkles on it.
I have a nag of speaking the truth, usually when it is more appropriate to sweet the truth talk. But I don’t do it. Even though I’ve been told countless times by practically everyone I know to keep my mouth shut when someone asks my opinion.
But you know what? The reason why people come to me for advice, or opinion, is not because I sweeten the bitter stuff, but because I blurt it out.
For some people not speaking the truth is as much like as not looking someone in the eye. The fact is; truth is raw, usually bitter, even sour sometimes, so much so that you can taste it. When God speaks, He doesn’t sugarcoat the burning hell nor does he sweeten the fact how He is a legalistic. He just says it. Clear and loud for those who would listen and pay heed.
Man is no different. When he speaks the truth, it might drive through the chest as a six inch knife. But it’s there. Like the cat out of the bag. Everyone has a different way of dealing with truth, but that’s between them and their conscience.
Once, a palmist told me that I will suffer great losses in life because I speak the truth. He begged me to learn to sugarcoat. Sugarcoating the truth doesn’t take away the bitterness. Instead because of the sweet stuff it might be mistaken for a bad medicine which just had to be ingested and forgotten about afterwards.
I might have suffered great losses in life because I speak the truth to the point where I don’t care if it might destroy me. I do it anyways. There are very little things we do right in the span of our short lives. I’m glad I blurt the truth and don’t sugarcoat it.

Dealing with Pain

There are many forms of pain to which man is susceptible to. Physical pain, emotional pain, loss, grief, pain of being alone, pain of not being accepted, pain of being looked down at, pain of not being seen at all.
Pain exists, and each one of us have our way of dealing with it. Some restore to lashing out, transferring their pain to those around them. Some of us shun ourselves from the world. Others restore to drugs. Few of us go to therapy.
Life although we say is short, but the moments of pain last longer, much longer than we hoped they would.
With time, I have devised a simple rule to deal with all forms of pain. It only requires you to control your mindset. Like the ‘mind over matter’ theory.
It’s a simple 80/20 rule. Which although is very popular in the management sciences for totally different reasons and hence connotations, but I have remodeled it suit my pain management techniques.
I believe that if a person can ignore 80% of the pain, be that a neurotic boss or a bad marriage and try to endure the remaining 20%, he can be on his way to a much healthier, happier and better life.
There is no manual on how to make your life less miserable. The only thing you can count on is you. Change yourself and dance around the confused world while you’re at it.
Remember, ignore the 80% and you’ll be left to endure the least, 20%. Do note that the only difference in your life can come from you.
Applying this rule takes a great deal of courage and yes, patience too. But it isn’t impossible. Give it a try and let me know how it works for you!

what I Learnt from ‘A Day at a Time’-I

Dearest Sally,
You know how I’ve been reading this book, called ‘A Day at a Time’. It is basically used as a prayer guide for recovering alcoholics. It is written by an anonymous writer, and what a writer he is.
Reading through the book, the writer often talks about addiction to drugs and how to deal with it actually a day at a time. Every page is dated from the first of January till the last day of the year. Every page has a diagnosis of a possible symptom followed by a prayer and it ends with a single line for the addict to remember so he can relate the entire lesson of the day.
There is one lesson I really liked and have been passing it on to my friends. Its about addiction to people. People we know, friends, spouse, girlfriend, anyone to whom we think we need to call and tell them all about how we hurt our little finger with the thorn.
We get addicted to people, we rely on them way too much than is healthy or wise. And most importantly, we don’t realise it. So when that person or persons are not around we suffer the withdrawal symptoms. Racing heart, ‘oh my God’, ‘oh my God’, what am I going to do?
This doesn’t mean you love less the poeple you love, neither does it mean that you shun everyone around you and become a hermit and practice the art of being alone. No. This just means that love people, make friends, get married, do whatever you always wanted to do.
But addiction is a bad thing and can make you act insane, even when its not drugs.

Torn to Pieces

Man has a tendency to go around in circles. He wastes time in doing that. Seven yesars later he finds himself exactly where he first started out to be.
What went wrong? What brought him back to stage one once more? Why again is he faced with the same circumstances over and over again? During the process, he dies a million deaths, to be reborn again. And he once more learns how to breathe.
Man is torn to pieces. He although apparently is ‘one’ to the eye on the outside. But he has parts of him that are laible and answerable to duty. To his conscience. To his desires of the heart. To his wishes that never get to be put on a list. Other than that everyone wants a piece of him. His parents, siblings, children, spouse, friends, his boss, his subordinates. Yet he keeps himself together knowing that he is in pieces.
A desire unfulfilled chips a piece off of him. A child takes another. The spouse takes many. His bucket full of duties takes more inches off him. Till the time he doesn’t recognise the person staring at him in the mirror. Till the time he no longer knows who he is. Perhaps that is why the world has been quoted to be a place of trial and procreation.
Everyone has to face trials, but not everyone gets to procreate, at least not biologically. Man is in pieces. And he has no idea who he is. He could better define himself when he was five than now when he is thirty-five. Maybe that is all the trial is about. Keeping it together when the inside is in a million shreds. Man then learns that he is lost. He doesnt know what to do or where to turn to for solace or guidance.
So he does what he ‘can’ or what he ‘ought’ to do and lets time decipher on its own who he is. So he finally learns that it was never upto him to decide who he was in the first place. Time alone passes the verdict. And perhaps then he might understand the reason behind all the trials and suffering. When the verdict tells him that he is now who he was meant to be.